The Seal's Second Chance Baby

One glance at the caller ID snapped her from her thoughts—Admiral Byrd Elementary.

“Need to get that?” Marsh asked.

“Unfortunately.” What had Colt done? Dipped a girl’s braids in paint? Freed the occupants of the teacher’s hamster cage or ant farm? Effie steeled herself for the worst. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Washington? I’m sorry to bother you, but—” Effie recognized the voice of Samantha, the school office clerk.

“What did Colt do?”

Samantha laughed. “Actually, nothing. The twins’ teacher just wanted me to see if you’re available next Thursday for a brief field trip. The kids are learning about money, so they’ll be walking to the bank at the end of our block. Mrs. Logan is desperate for volunteers.”

“Please tell her I’d be happy to help.” Effie released the breath she’d been holding.

“Perfect. I’ll let her know.”

Upon disconnecting, Effie couldn’t help but smile.

“Good news?” Marsh asked.

“In a roundabout way.” She skimmed her palm over Cassidy’s soft blond curls. “My twins are a handful—well, mostly Colt. He’s oldest by three minutes, and always in trouble. This school year couldn’t have come at a better time, as I’m in sore need of a parental breather. Anyway, during kindergarten, I got far more calls than I would have liked from the boys’ teacher, and with today being the first day of school, I saw the caller ID and assumed the worst.”

“But everything’s okay?” He held a bacon strip to his lips, causing her tummy to flutter. When he’d been in the hospital, she’d stared at him for hours at a time, but he’d always been asleep. Now that he was awake, it was tough not to notice even more—like the way a fraction of an inch up or down at the corners of his mouth made him look happy or sad or devilishly sexy.

“Yes.” Or was it? Face flushed from her latest assessment of her companion, she focused on squirting ketchup on her hash browns. For the moment, her twins might have been behaving, but her overactive imagination certainly wasn’t. It was high time she focused more on this wedding and less on the best man!

* * *

MARSH COULDN’T GET away from Effie and her cute-as-a-button baby fast enough. He’d paid the bill, and Effie was back on her phone, gabbing with someone about healthy school snacks, when the baby dropped her toy. In the moment, he found himself back on parental autopilot, reaching to the floor to get it, then dipping his napkin in his water to wipe the whale clean.

He returned it to Cassidy, and her smile filled him with the kind of awe and wonder he’d long ago had for his son. He never would have pegged himself for the kind of guy who liked kids, but not long into Tucker’s brief life, Marsh found himself wholly consumed with his son. What he ate, what he wore, what toys he played with. Tucker had been his world, and when he died... Well, for all practical purposes, Marsh had, too.

Effie’s crew was his first exposure to kids since Tucker’s passing, and Marsh found the experience to be all at once heady and cruel. He’d caught himself sneaking peeks at little Cassidy’s chubby pink cheeks and big blue eyes that matched her mama’s. When he bent forward to return her toy, he’d caught a trace of her baby-lotion scent, which led him right back to Tucker’s infant years, and to how much fun it had been to make boat noises while playing with his rubber fleet in the tub, then wrapping him in a big soft towel, lotioning him before adding a fresh diaper and PJs before rocking him and watching his wife, Leah, nurse before they’d tucked him into his crib.

Knowing he’d never again kiss his son good-night or play catch with him or watch him shriek at the beach while running from a crab was too much to bear.

He had to get out of there.

Away from Effie and her sweet baby girl and her talk about how relieved she was to have breathing room away from her boys when he’d have literally given anything for one more moment with his son.

In that instant, hearing Effie laugh over the fact that she was actually happy to be away from her kids filled him with irrational rage. Not with her, per se, but his particularly painful lot in life.

On autopilot, desperate for fresh air and the kind of quiet he could only find in the middle of nowhere, Marsh pushed back his chair, pressed his hat tighter on his head and left the diner and town.

Grief drove him to push his truck too fast, and back at his grandfather’s ranch, he followed the same trend while four-wheeling to the old homestead.

Only when Marsh had well and truly driven to the end of his world did he allow himself badly needed release.

He screamed at God.

Cursed fate.

He broke down and cried and wished that damned snake had finished what he’d started. Most of all, Marsh wished for a moment’s respite from the heartache stemming from being well and truly alone.

Chapter Five (#ulink_103b2447-75a5-5cb3-906e-7391ca402a22)

“Effie May Washington,” Mabel scolded. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Mabel planted her hands on her hips. “You had to have done something to make Marsh bolt out of here faster than a spooked horse.”

“Did he at least have the courtesy to pay for your meal?” Wallace asked.

Effie nodded.

“Since Marsh ran off with his truck, Effie, looks like you’re our official chauffeur.”

Swell.

“No worries. We’ll have fun.” Forcing a smile, Effie took Cassidy from her high chair, then vowed the first time she saw Marsh again, she’d give him a piece of her mind.

* * *

BY ELEVEN, THE BABY was squirming from being held too long and Effie couldn’t tell whether Wallace and Mabel were fighting for real over the flowers or having a brief lovers’ quarrel.

Rainbow Bridge Floral was owned by the same family who owned the town’s only funeral home, so the rentable wedding arches and casket displays didn’t make for the most ideal ambience. At least the place smelled good, with its sweet mix of roses, freesia and carnations.

“If we hold the ceremony at Rock Chapel but the reception at the Grange Hall, then we’ll have to decorate both places, which means double the cost,” Mabel explained to her fiancé, whose cheeks had turned red.

“But, darlin’, I already told you,” he said, “I don’t give two green figs about the money. I’ve got more money than time, and want to spend my money and time on you.”

Mabel opened her mouth to form a fresh argument, but Wallace leaned in to kiss the fight right out of her.

Swoon.

As frustrating as this whole wedding business was, Effie couldn’t help but be thrilled for her grandmother—even a bit jealous. Being a single mom had never been part of her grand plan. She was supposed to have had a rewarding nursing career before even thinking about starting a family, but that hadn’t exactly worked out, either.

Gloria, their floral consultant, cleared her throat. “Since your choice of venues is decided, are we ready to get back to deciding between roses and chrysanthemums?”

“Mums,” Mabel said with a firm nod. “Much more budget friendly.”

“Roses,” Wallace said with a firm smack of his hands against the planning table.

“What if I kind of like mums?” Mabel asked. “Especially for fall?”

“Then we’ll have both. Would that make you happy?”

Mabel nodded, and then she and her groom-to-be started in again with their kissing. Really?